Hell is Frozen Over

I jolted awake to howling wind and cascading snow in the dead of night.
I scrambled to my feet and brushed the snow off my shoulders. Where was I?! How in the blazes did I get here? Why didn't I have a coat? My head throbbed in tempo with my racing heartbeat, but I couldn't remember anything before the wind woke me. I saw a red light in the distance. Radio tower? I decided that was the best chance of finding shelter, find my bearings, and maybe even get help. I didn't have any other option.
The wind strengthened in intensity and tried to force-feed me some sleet. I had to get moving. I started in the direction of the red light; arms wrapped around my body. The moon came from behind some clouds, and I could faintly see some boot-prints in the snow going the same direction. They overlapped, all massed together as if a large group of people had gone the same way. People. I needed someone to help me. I quickened my pace. Within 20 minutes, I entered a naked forest, and the trail led up to a tree with a dark blot on it. Thinking it was a person, I sprinted towards it but saw instead hanging on a branch, a coat. I was shivering so severely I was barely able to put it on.
This coat was a godsend. Someone in that group must have had one extra and misplaced it. As I walked, I began to see tracks split off from the main path. Some went left right, but I couldn’t tell where they went. None circled back to the main route. I ignored the prints of the deviants and continued-safety in numbers. I lost track of time, but with a start noticed all of the prints began to disperse, though still in the general direction of the tower. My heart raced, almost bringing a sensation of warmth back to my numb fingers. Should I follow the straightest set of tracks? Should I break my own path??
I chose the straightest path. Visibility was so low I could only see 20 feet in front of me. I stopped when I saw the boot-prints turn into a body-print and a skid over the edge of a cliff. Creeping forward, I saw a dark form at the bottom. Someone had fallen. I was energized by more than self-preservation now; I had to help him! Get him out of this forsaken wasteland. I scrambled backward and flew down the hillside to the bottom of the cliff. The man didn’t have a coat or a pulse. I turned him over and saw… my face. I recoiled and ran as fast as I could down the mountain. No. NO! I realized all the tracks matched…they matched my footprints. How many times had I died here? I tripped over a log and my neck snapped.
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I jolted awake to howling wind and cascading snow in the dead of night.